


We Can Work It Out

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Competition, F/M, Flirting, Frustration, Pool & Billiards, Sexual Frustration, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3170963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skoulsonfest - Day 2: She frustrates you.  Skye and Coulson get competitive during training.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Can Work It Out

"This isn't working," she said, looking at the heartrate monitor at her wrist.

She was leaned against the wall, trying to calm herself.

"The whole point is to push your limits, Skye," he said, tossing aside the dented metal shield, the angry sound clanging against the ground.

"The idea of hurting you freaks me out, okay?!" she shot back.

"Fine," he answered back tersely. "But you need to get over it. Or we can get May to do this."

"I don't want to do this with May," she said. "I don't want any of the others to know until..."

"I have more experience than you do with his," he interrupted. "You're not going to break me. You're not."

Skye crossed her arms and looked over the mats at him standing there in his sweats and t-shirt.

"Is this about me or you?"

"Excuse me?" he said, turning over his shoulder at her.

She's obviously hit a nerve.

"Ever since we started this, it's like you're in robot mode," she answered. "You just keep pushing. And pushing."

"How else are you going to stay in control on the field?" he asked, sounding exasperated.

He went to pick the shield up again, motioning towards her with his other hand. "Let's keep going."

"No," she said. "I want to have a normal conversation for five minutes."

"There isn't any more normal. Normal went bye bye when you joined SHIELD."

"Are you being patronizing?" she asked, giving him a look.

"I was trying to be funny," he pleaded. "I'm not suggesting this should be easy, but, c'mon, Skye."

"Okay."

She raised her hand again and then felt the wave push from her fingers towards the shield.

He managed to brace himself just fine, so she did it again. It shoved him backwards a few feet, but his face remained impassive.

Advancing towards him she tried a smaller series of lighter pulses and when she got close enough she swung her foot out and tried to knock him off his feet as he sidestepped her.

"We're not practicing close quarters combat," he said tersely.

"You need to be ready on the field," she said. "My dad really hates your guts."

She grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to get him low enough to throw him, but only succeeded in spinning him around.

"Fine," he said, tossing the shield aside.

When she went for him again he grabbed her elbow and pinned it behind her and she bent then tucked and pulled him down with her, rolling out of the way when his back was on the mat, into a crouch.

He scowled at her and got to his feet again, blocking her attacks then trapping her leg and landing with her underneath him.

She grabbed his wrist and felt him lose muscle control as the vibrations ran up his arm.

Then she was on top of him, his arm pinned behind him, pressing his head against the mat.

"You think you're in control, but you're not."

She let go and then offered a hand to him, as he took it and she pulled him up.

"Don't ever do that again," he said, before releasing her hand.

"Maybe we just need to practice more?" she said, wryly, as he grabbed the towel on his way out and let the gym door bang shut behind him.

  
***

Muttering to himself, he splashed water from the sink onto his face in the locker room, then dried it on the towel.

He stared up at his expression in the mirror. Then noticed someone watching him from behind in the reflection.

"Hitting the mats hard, are we?" Hunter said, looking a little deer-in-the-headlights when Coulson focused on him, hands propped on the sink.

"I've been training with Skye," he said, throwing the towel into the nearby laundry bin.

"Oh, _yes_ , I can see how that might be frustrating."

"What the hell does that mean?" he asks, turning around.

"I mean, the way she frustrates you. Not the training, although," he said, motioning in the air. "Combining the two, potentially, could..."

"Skye can be challenging, _yes_ ," he cuts him off, crossing to the locker and opening it to rifle through it. "I can handle it."

"Skye _is_ challenging," Hunter said, stepping closer. "And she has a peculiar way of making you waffle about."

Hunter plays with some wrapping in his hands and then pops something into his mouth, begins chewing on it, as Coulson narrows his eyes at him.

"Do you fancy her?"

Coulson's eyes go wide as Hunter leans up against the row of lockers like what he said is just a little nothing.

"I don't think I like what you're insinuating, Hunter."

"Whatever you were doing down in that city moved it out of the territory of insinuation."

"Is this a personal theory of yours," he asked, shutting the locker a little harder than necessary, "Or a shared view?"

"No idea," he said with a shrug, chewing open mouthed. "I haven't _polled_."

Coulson rolled his eyes, done with the conversation as he headed for the shower with his soap in hand.

"Then keep your opinions to yourself."

"She doesn't like losing," Hunter said after him. "I can tell you that much."

  
***

  
"Stop toying with me," he said, staring at her across his desk. "You're a lot further along than you've let on, and you're holding back."

She sat in the chair across from him, eyes staring up at him, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

"I'd never tried that before," she began, leaning up towards him. "You said you wanted me to push myself, so I did. You're just not used to combat training with me."

"This is still about me?" he said, leaning forward against the desk.

"I thought this was about us working together, not you working through your...stuff."

"Stop," he said, holding up a hand. "Let's take a step back."

She crossed her legs and turned away from him with a sigh.

"How about something more casual?" he said. "A drink. We talk."

"Are you asking me out for a drink?" she said, turning back to him, eyebrows raised.

"I'm asking you to have a drink, Skye," he returned calmly.

  
***

"Did you just cheat?"

He's pretty sure the pool table just shifted.

She eyes him, nonplussed, like she's daring him to say something.

"I wouldn't peg you for a cheater, Skye," he says, looking across the room at her.

Somehow, having a drink and hashing things out turned into her persuading him to play pool.

"That was the old me," she says tauntingly, leaning across the pool table.

He stares back at her, nods once. "Okay, then."

His sleeves are rolled up, but he rolls them up a bit more.

"Your shot," she says, and he notices the little swing to her hips. She knows he doesn't have a shot.

"The first time I met you," he said. "I knew you were going to be a challenge."

She watched him walk around the table, looking for an opportunity to block her next shot.

The song she'd punched into the jukebox came over the speakers right then.

"Nice," he said, leaning over to take his shot, as the words "Lola" ring in his ears.

"You did say she could keep up," she chided, sitting on the table.

He hits the ball and gets it close to blocking the pocket, but not quite.

She's there, looking down at him with that same smile.

He smiles back at her, stands up.

"You're not supposed to sit on the table," he says, putting his hand on her hip to pull her down. "That's breaking the rules."

"You do like the rules, don't you?" she asks, standing up against him.

"To a point," he said, as his hand brushed against her hip on its way to the table.

She heard his ball clack against hers. And smiled.

"You're up," he said, raising his eyebrows.

"Mmm," she said, pushing him out of the way. "Going to have to get into a better position."

She walked along the side of the table, checking her spots as she went, and bent down across from him, sliding the stick along the table.

"That looks like a difficult shot," he said to her. "Maybe go for the easier..."

"I've got _this_ one," she said, wiggling as she lined it up.

His face as she hit it in the pocket made her only feel a little guilty.

"Go time," she said, fluttering her eyelashes as he looked for a better opportunity.

He knocked it right into the pocket, the shot she'd tried to block before.

"You," he said, gesturing towards the table.

They were getting to the last few shots, and she was looking it over, circling the table, before she found the only real advantage.

She eased into it, he'd just got lucky before, and now...

"When you bend over like that, I can see down your shirt. But you know that, don't you?"

Coulson's leaning over her shoulder, talking into her ear.

She smirks, aims the shot.

"Do you want me to see, Skye?" he asks, all husky.

She misses.

  
***

"That's because I'm 51."

She never expected that to be thrown in her face, but when they're back at the base and together in his room, it comes up.

How they got here in the first place.

Yes, she wanted him to see! Of course she did. She's been wanting him to see it all along.

She just didn't think he was going to say it so direct and sexy-sounding.

And she wanted to do this, but she didn't think...

"You win," he says.

"Obviously."

He chuckles against the back of her shoulder, then kisses it.

"But, I let you."

 

 

 


End file.
